The Complete Sherlock Holmes

original yeoman farmer of the seventeenth century.
They were ornamented, however, on the
lower part by a line of well-chosen modern watercolours;
while above, where yellow plaster took
the place of oak, there was hung a fine collection
of South American utensils and weapons, which
had been brought, no doubt, by the Peruvian lady
upstairs. Holmes rose, with that quick curiosity
which sprang from his eager mind, and examined
them with some care. He returned with his eyes
full of thought.
“Hullo!” he cried. “Hullo!”
A spaniel had lain in a basket in the corner.
It came slowly forward towards its master, walking
with difficulty. Its hind legs moved irregularly
and its tail was on the ground. It licked Ferguson’s
hand.
“What is it, Mr. Holmes?”
“The dog. What’s the matter with it?”
“That’s what puzzled the vet. A sort of paralysis.
Spinal meningitis, he thought. But it is passing.
He’ll be all right soon—won’t you, Carlo?”
A shiver of assent passed through the drooping
tail. The dog’s mournful eyes passed from one of
us to the other. He knew that we were discussing
his case.
“Did it come on suddenly?”
“In a single night.”
“How long ago?”
“It may have been four months ago.”
“Very remarkable. Very suggestive.”
“What do you see in it, Mr. Holmes?”
“A confirmation of what I had already
thought.”
“For God’s sake, what do you think, Mr.
Holmes? It may be a mere intellectual puzzle to
you, but it is life and death to me! My wife a
would-be murderer—my child in constant danger!
Don’t play with me, Mr. Holmes. It is too terribly
serious.”
The big Rugby three-quarter was trembling all
over. Holmes put his hand soothingly upon his
arm.
“I fear that there is pain for you, Mr. Ferguson,
whatever the solution may be,” said he. “I would
spare you all I can. I cannot say more for the instant,
but before I leave this house I hope I may
have something definite.”
“Please God you may! If you will excuse me,
gentlemen, I will go up to my wife’s room and see
if there has been any change.”
The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire
905
He was away some minutes, during which
Holmes resumed his examination of the curiosities
upon the wall. When our host returned it was
clear from his downcast face that he had made no
progress. He brought with him a tall, slim, brownfaced
girl.
“The tea is ready, Dolores,” said Ferguson.
“See that your mistress has everything she can
wish.”
“She verra ill,” cried the girl, looking with indignant
eyes at her master. “She no ask for food.
She verra ill. She need doctor. I frightened stay
alone with her without doctor.”
Ferguson looked at me with a question in his
eyes.
“I should be so glad if I could be of use.”
“Would your mistress see Dr. Watson?”
“I take him. I no ask leave. She needs doctor.”
“Then I’ll come with you at once.”
I followed the girl, who was quivering with
strong emotion, up the staircase and down an ancient
corridor. At the end was an iron-clamped
and massive door. It struck me as I looked at it
that if Ferguson tried to force his way to his wife
he would find it no easy matter. The girl drew a
key from her pocket, and the heavy oaken planks
creaked upon their old hinges. I passed in and she
swiftly followed, fastening the door behind her.
On the bed a woman was lying who was clearly
in a high fever. She was only half conscious, but as
I entered she raised a pair of frightened but beautiful
eyes and glared at me in apprehension. Seeing
a stranger, she appeared to be relieved and sank
back with a sigh upon the pillow. I stepped up to
her with a few reassuring words, and she lay still
while I took her pulse and temperature. Both were
high, and yet my impression was that the condition
was rather that of mental and nervous excitement
than of any actual seizure.
“She lie like that one day, two day. I ’fraid she
die,” said the girl.
The woman turned her flushed and handsome
face towards me.
“Where is my husband?”
“He is below and would wish to see you.”
“I will not see him. I will not see him.” Then
she seemed to wander off into delirium. “A fiend!
A fiend! Oh, what shall I do with this devil?”
“Can I help you in any way?”
“No. No one can help. It is finished. All is
destroyed. Do what I will, all is destroyed.”